Song of Valor
by Selkit
Summary: When brute strength meets brute strength on the battlefield, the deciding factor is a simple bow and arrow. Written for the Girl Saves Boy ficathon on LiveJournal.


Strands of hair whipped around Leliana's face, stinging her cheeks and clouding her vision as she spun to avoid her opponent's blade. The genlock roared, displaying a mouthful of rotting but wicked teeth, and followed through with a second slashing motion. Blood droplets flew from its sword, splattering Leliana's armor as she swung her right arm in a wide arc, pressing forward, fixing her eyes on the creature's neck.

The blow struck, and the genlock's howl of pain turned to a frothing gurgle as her dagger cleaved its throat, leaving a jagged trail of exposed muscle and sinew. Another quick stab to the gut, and the darkspawn toppled and fell, blood pooling in the dust beneath its crumpled form. Leliana wiped the blade clean and sucked in a deep breath, regaining her bearings as she took up her bow.

The rest of the party was a stone's throw away, each member neck-deep in battle, their weapons in constant motion and their faces speckled with gore. Leliana reached back and plucked an arrow from her quiver, eyes narrowing on a hurlock near the edge of the fray. The bow stretched, taut and responsive under her fingers, and the arrow's path was true. The hurlock squawked as it collapsed, her feathered shaft buried deep in its back, and several of its brethren followed in quick succession.

Leliana grinned, tuning her ears to the musical whistling of her arrows. Before her, Alistair and the Warden fought back to back, darkspawn limbs flying and heads rolling seemingly with every swing. Off to the right, Sten disemboweled the last hurlock with businesslike precision, stoic even in the heat of combat. Leliana let another missile fly, skewering a final genlock, and the battle's chaos ceased as quickly as it had begun.

"Did we just win?" Alistair quipped, but his trademark boyish grin faded almost before the sentence was complete. "Wait…never mind. I don't think we're finished here yet."

"More coming?" Leliana asked, bending down to relieve a fallen darkspawn of its unused arrows. "How many?"

"_Lots_." Alistair made a face. "Get ready. They'll be on us in a minute."

Sten grunted, turning to face the road, and Leliana drew a sharp breath. "Sten, you're bleeding."

The qunari glanced at her, then down to the gash in his arm, where fluid dripped in a weak but steady stream. "Indeed. Your powers of observation stagger me."

Her fingers automatically flew to the slim pack at her belt. "Do you want a poultice? I have an extra one, I think. Or…" Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Perhaps those medicinal flowers you picked?"

"_Parshaara,_" he growled, fixing her with a glower. "There is no time. They're coming."

"Yep! That they are!" Alistair declared, raising his sword. "Coming right now, as a matter of fact!"

As though they'd been signaled, darkspawn charged up the road like a herd of possessed cattle, and several breathless minutes later Leliana decided that "lots" had been a grievous understatement. Her quiver was nearly empty, the air burned in her lungs, and the waves of enemies showed no sign of stopping—

The ground shook without warning, nearly knocking her off balance, and her stomach sank as an ogre burst through the nearby trees. As massive as it was hideous, the beast's every step was akin to a thunderclap, and its bellowing roar made Leliana's toes curl in her boots.

She was too far away to hear, but she thought she saw the Warden's lips move in a curse—or maybe a prayer—as the ogre lowered its head and charged. Muscles like gnarled roots worked under its skin, its bared teeth glistened like knives, and its cold pale eyes betrayed nothing but bloodlust. Drawing herself up and steeling her spine, Leliana took aim, staring down the arrow's length.

A snarl at her ear wrenched her head around, and she spun, automatically sending the arrow into the charging hurlock's gullet. Its sprawling demise did nothing to slow its companions, and Leliana drew her daggers, darting forward to meet the darkspawn head-on. Her training took over as she kicked, slashed, and dodged—and for a moment she was back in Orlais, her fingers swift and her targets hapless under her blades, and when the last foe collapsed she did not try to quell the heady rush of victory.

"Leliana!"

Alistair's shout brought her abruptly back to the present. Across the field, the ogre and its darkspawn were giving her companions all they could handle—and then some. As she watched, the beast swung its gigantic arm like a club, catching Sten full in the face and tossing the qunari to the ground as though he weighed no more than a scrap of vellum.

Leliana sprang into action, scrabbling in her nearly bare quiver as the ogre scooped Sten into one enormous hand. Her fingers closed around her last arrow, and she whipped it free, fitting it to the bow and lining up its point with the ogre's left eye.

The beast roared its triumph, balling its free hand into a fist.

_Maker, guide my aim_, Leliana mouthed, and released the arrow.

- • - • -

If there was one skill she had honed during her years as a bard, it was the ability to sense when someone was watching her.

"All right, Sten," she declared as she pivoted, looking the qunari in the eye. "You've been staring at me ever since that last fight. Is something the matter?"

He was silent a long moment, and just when she had concluded he was ignoring her, he spoke. "It is…a strange thing. A woman coming to my aid on the battlefield."

"Is that it?" Leliana couldn't help but chuckle. "Don't look so distressed, Sten. I was just looking out for you. It's what friends do, yes?"

"I am not distressed." He stared straight ahead, furrowed brows almost hiding his eyes. "As I said, it is merely an unfamiliar situation. And I am not your friend."

She gave a humming little sigh. "Well then, for your sake I suppose it's a good thing that _I_ am _your_ friend, whether you like it or not." She fixed him with her cheekiest grin before risking a step closer, leaning in toward his ear. "_Softie_."

The qunari's longsuffering sigh could have knocked down an ogre at ten paces, and Leliana's giggle followed her down the pathway.


End file.
